


i want to be well

by meowrails



Category: Doctor Strange (2016)
Genre: Asexual Character, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, M/M, Queerplatonic Relationships, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9117547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowrails/pseuds/meowrails
Summary: Stephen's mind is loud and filled with constant worry. Wong gives him a lesson.





	

**Author's Note:**

> sooo this is of an... experimental fic. i have a LOT of different headcanons about the dynamic between wong and stephen, especially in the MCU, and I wanted to try to write this specific dynamic. 
> 
> heads up, wong is aroace in his fic but engages in a sexual act. if you any any problems with how i wrote this particular headcanon, please let me know.
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are appreciated!

A drop of sweat falls from his forehead to the floor. After hours of laying completely naked, Stephen Strange is wondering whether or not this training exercise is actually working.

“Breathe, Strange.”

He almost forgot that he should do that, he was too busy trembling in the middle of his room.

The heel of teacher’s boot presses against his arm, pushing gently until he turns over to lay with his stomach against the floor. Stephen’s entire body shudders. He presents himself to Wong carefully, wondering if he is finally going to be allowed to come this time.

His teacher glances at him from his book and pushes his hips with his heel until he falls to his side again.

No, it doesn’t seem like he is going to be allowed to come just yet. The Crimson Bands of Cyttorak that surrounds his cock applies pressure ever so slightly, making Stephen hunch over in pain. He’s sensitive, oh so sensitive after being left like this for so long. Despite it, his cock continues to drip onto the ground, expecting a promise that Stephen isn’t sure he will be able to fulfill for a while.

Out of the corner of his view he sees Wong moving his hands, contorting the Bands to move at his will, all while still engrossed in some novel.

“What did I do now?” He dares croak out.

For the first time during this entire session, he notices a curve on the corner of Wong’s lips. “Because your mind is still too loud. And because you dare ask that question.”

Tears form in Stephen’s eyes -- he’s managed to cry after every single round so far. At least it isn’t like the fourth round, the hardest of all so far.

Gods, that was embarrassing.

“Come on and fuck me already!” He had yelled out, both the pain and pleasure from the vibrator buzzing inside him. The Crimson bands that grew ever so tightly on his cock wouldn’t allow the concentration needed to conjure a spell to release himself. Not to mention he had been banging his hands against the ground until the blinding pain was far too much.

Wong had been well aware of this, he watched Stephen during his entire breakdown. Tears had been pouring down his face, flushed red and covered in sweat. He looked like a mess, like a man deprived of all dignity.

“Come on, I’ll be so good for you. The best possible student Kamar-Taj has seen.” Stephen reached between Wong’s thighs, it got him a shove on his chest from the man’s boot.

He whimpered, the pain only heightening his arousal, before continuing. “I’ll suck your cock. I’ll do whatever you want... I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.” He licked his lips and fluttered his eyelashes. Wong could not look less interested.

“I’m not here to do that, Strange. I’m here to help you quiet your mind.” His teacher had said. This resulted in Stephen burying his head over Wong’s thigh and crying pathetically. Wong actually felt pity for him at that moment, seeing as he stroked his hair with one hand while holding his book with the other. As he calmed down, he let out small puffs of air against the fabric of Wong’s uniform, body still shaking. What he needed the most at that moment was stability, someone to trust. Wong became that person, still running his hands in soothing movements over his scalp.

And now he’s back to where he started, on the floor and helpless as ever. Wong assured him that this was done to all the most unruly students, like the most fucked-up form of detention. Yet, out of all the students Wong had supervised in his lifetime during this process, he told Stephen that he’d never seen someone manage to last this long without understanding the lesson.

At least he’s better at _something._

He thinks this is the seventh round so far, maybe the eight, Stephen isn’t sure. He lost count after the fifth after getting so frustrated from trying to stay pliant and disciplined, to no avail.

This time, he would come. He’s sure of is.He just has to rest on the floor for another hour without moving. Without thinking. Without saying a single word or sound.

Learning to be quiet. To focus. This is what this whole session was supposed to be about.

Stephen still can’t believe he agreed to this thinking it would somehow end up with Wong being his fuckbuddy.

It seemed like the doctor misinterpreted the entire situation at first, and thought it would be a form of foreplay. Wong definitely seemed like the kind of guy to get off on Dominance and voyeurism. He had slipped in the vibrator at an angle where it touched his prostate, per Wong’s instructions, making sure he kept eye-contact with the other man through half lidded eyes the entire time. He had moaned and writhed at the sensation, smiling when he noticed that Wong had wrapped a Crimson Band of Cyttorak at the base of his cock and balls.

He thought Wong was a kinky fucker then, so he played the part, begging for his teacher to touch him. Play with him. Use him as he desired.

All to no avail, Wong was still sat at the edge of his bed, sipping tea calmly and watching Stephen with such a bored expression on his face that his student grew more and more nervous and confused the longer he noticed it. The session felt more like he was being experimented rather than foreplay.

Then it was the first time he had been on the edge of finishing. Stephen’s body trembled, yet he was smiling and begging for Wong to touch him. Wong said nothing, still staring intently.

It wasn’t until he tried to sit on Wong’s lap and kiss him, only to be pushed to the ground with full force, that he realized this wasn’t a reward. It was a lesson.

He then understood what the bands were actually for.

The only sound that fills the room now is the quiet vibration inside him. There is no more writhing and moaning this time, just quiet contemplation. It almost feels like a sort of meditation at this mouth, Stephen is exhausted. At this point, he’s sure he can fall asleep like this.

Wong just couldn’t accept that. Sleeping as an easy way out of not thinking.

His boots nudge at his back to pull him back into reality. Stephen opens his eyes and looks at his teacher, awaiting any further instruction. He can’t read the man’s face, he doesn’t think anyone can, but Stephen doesn’t think he’s _too_ frustrated.

Wong beckons him closer, gesturing for his student to sit in front of him. Stephen crawls -- he is far too exhausted to stand, his cock bobbs weakly as he moved. It’s probably too exhausted to do the same.

Setting next to Wong’s crossed legs, Stephen closes his eyes again. A smooth hand settles on his cheek and then lowers to pat his ribs his, like an owner calming a horse. He can't help but make a meek noise at the touch. Wong shushes him. It sounds so gentle and patient Stephen allows himself to believe it’s genuinely caring.

“You can do better than that, can’t you?”

Stephen isn’t sure, but he nods anyway frantically.

Wong gives him a studied look and continues. “This is a big improvement from your past attempts, shall we put you to the test?”

His student tentatively rests his head on his thigh again, clearly expecting Wong to stroke his hair again when his nods. The librarian has looked especially bored for the past two hours, already almost done with his novel. He allows the touch, only because the man has been so obedient in the last two rounds, and runs his fingers through the man’s hair. It was only recently cut short with a goatee to match. Wong thinks it's a big improvement.

He pushes Stephen’s head from his thigh gently, holding his chin so the man can face him. “You can stop this whenever you want to, you know this right? You can let go of your ego for this. I will not chastise you if you wish to stop.”

He already spent so much time getting this far, Stephen can’t give up now. He has to prove that he can control himself, that he is fit to handle anything an enemy can throw at him, and that he can have a tinge of self control and patience.

Yet he still feels so inexperienced and unprepared. That’s what Wong is here for, to ground him and help him become the a protector worthy of the mystic arts.

No, he cannot give up. Stephen shakes his head.

Wong hums in thought before speaking. “Tell me your safeword. I will not continue until I know you remember it.”

Stephen stayed still, eyes widening in fear with every second as he realizes he doesn’t remember a simple word. Him, a doctor with photographic vision, an almost perfect record, can’t remember a _word._ His vision grows cloudy as tears start streaming down his face again, all he can think about was how he failed this test. How a mistake as simple as this could cost people their lives. Panic swelled over him -- it is a feeling now as familiar to him as the back of his tattered, scarred hands. Oh gods, his _hands_. How will he ever defend the Sanctum properly with his hands. He knows they shouldn’t measure his strength but every cramping feeling of his fingers felt like a mockery from the cosmos. He is sobbing now, looking at around him desperately to try to remember his word.

 _Self-control. Self-control. Self-control._ He tries to repeat it in his head like a mantra but it doesn’t work his head is filled with so many thought at the same time _Stephen_ he says or possibly thinks he isn’t entirely sure what’s happening _Of course it's a panic attack_ how simplistic how could a man as smart as him get something as ridiculous as a panic attack oh gods oh gods oh _gods --_

A hand rests on his shoulder. Stephen’s mind goes blank, he feels like he’s about to faint. Wong is saying something that he can’t quite understand. He takes ten deep breaths, he feels a hand stroke his hair with each one.

“Focus, Strange.” The student finally quiets down and understands. Wong retracts his hands from Stephen’s hair, feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable with the intimate contact, and waits for Stephen to settle down again.

“Again, your safeword. Do you remember it?”

Stephen’s lips wobbles as he speaks. He was sure Wong was going to smack him out of his panic attack, or something of the sort. He didn’t expect to be lulled down slowly like this, with a gentle and firm hand caressing his cheek. He breathes through the rising panic and lets it melt away. “...Wristwatch. It’s wristwatch.”

He wonders if this has happened before, to any other students who went through the same sort of punishment. Is Wong as equally distant to all of them? Is he being kinder to him, or does he just want to get this over with?

As his teacher’s request, the sorcerer rests on his back. His chest is blushed and heaving with each of his aroused breaths. While the rest of his body shows clear signs of lust and excitement, his cock is still meekly flaccid between his legs, red and slightly swollen from hours of being confined in its magic cage. He stays still, looking up at the ceiling in order not to show any signs of distraction to Wong.

Stephen closes his eyes in resignation. He can take another round, he can take an infinite amount of them if they’re a mean to a necessary end. Maybe that has been the lesson all along, to give in and accept a certain fate.

Or to give him a feeling of what it would be like to relive the same moment over and over again. He really shouldn’t have toyed with the Eye of Agamotto.

The Crimson Bands around his cock disappear one by one, without any warning. Stephen whimpers at the relief, he almost forgot what it feels like to actually be able to feel his own cock harden and drip pre-cum onto his stomach. The sorcerer mutters a weak _thank you, thank you_ and looks up at his teacher.

With a flick of a wrist, the vibrator inside him is gone. Stephen feels empty, alarmingly so, but he can’t help but find relief in not having the device lodged firmly against his prostate. He’s fully hard, it's painful and demanding attention, but Stephen awaits further instruction before continuing.

Wong shuts his book closed, setting it aside. He probably just finished it. Stephen wipes tears from his eyes with shaking hands, but they continue to fall like a leak in a barrell, he’ll eventually break and they’ll flow out in a cascade.

“Did you learn your lesson now, Strange?” Wong asks, his fingers are resting over his crossed legs, looking down at Stephen with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I... think so?”

At least he’s honest. Wong sighs and picks up his book and coat, already making his way to the door. Stephen, still deep in his headspace, doesn’t know what to think. Is Wong leaving because he’s given up on him? Stephen rushes to the other man before he wan open the door, holding him by the wrist. Wong looks back at him curiously, as if he didn’t understand why he even wanted him around.

“Did I say something wrong?” Stephen breathed.

Wong looked down and shook his head in disbelief. “Technically, yes. You were supposed to tell me exactly what sort of lesson you learned.”

“And I didn’t...”

“No, but you had enough. I’m not going to push you to extremes against your will, no matter how much you believed you could take it.” The teacher threads his fingers together. Stephen places his own hands behind his back, caressing them idly.

He failed, then. The student clenches his jaw as a fails to keep control of his tears. As he fails to stand up straight, head resting on Wong’s shoulder. As he fails to cry quietly, choked back sobs escape against the fabric of his teacher’s clothes. Wong offers a gentle hand to his hair, knowing fully well now that this somehow always manages to calm the sorcerer.

“I wasn’t going to leave because you failed, I was about to leave to give you space to... finish yourself off in peace. At your own pace.” Wong usually never had to explain this part of the other students he’s done this to.

Stephen lets out a breathless _oh_ then stares sheepishly at the ground. “I really don’t want to be alone right now.”

There was a hidden question in his words. Wong nodded and helps Stephen walk to his bed. The student slumps on the mattress, visibly calming just a bit, but keeps glancing at the other man as he tries to get comfortable.

After watching him fumble for a few minutes, Wong speaks up. “What’s wrong now, Stephen?”

Stephen moves to where Wong is sitting, near the edge of the mattress, and looks at him with s blushed mix of confused arousal. “I can't actually -- um, touch myself properly with my hands now and I was wondering if you could,” He gulps and expects only for Wong to stare at him in disgust, “if you could help me? You don’t have to fuck me if you don’t want to I was just --”

Wong doesn’t let him finish. “Fine. Sit here.”

He does as told, resting with his head on Wong’s shoulder and sitting between his thighs. A hand is already caressing his smooth stomach and chest gently. “Oh, thank you, Wong. _Thank you_...” Stephen breathed, raising his hips invitingly.

He hears nothing in return and starts to worry, but then Wong grabs his cock and rubs his fingertips over the slit. Even if he wasn’t attracted to Stephen, he had to admit that he enjoys watching the man squirm beneath him at the slightest touch.

Wong retracts his hand and moves his palm in front of Stephen’s face. It takes him a second to understand what the master wants, but then drags his tongue over Wong’s open palm until it’s properly slick enough to stroke him.

Hands pat his head, like a pet who did a good job, and he gasps when he feels Wong’s cold hands against heated flesh. Stephen doesn’t notice it at first, he’s too busy thrusting into the fist around his cock, but Wong’s isn’t actually stroking him. He’s just giving him something to fuck.

Stephen groans at the realization. There was something about the detachment that made him even harder, dripping precum into Wong’s hands. Another rushed _thank you_ tumbles from his lips as he moves his at a rushed pace. The master’s hands are soft, smaller than his own, he doesn’t even want to imagine he’s fucking something else.

Wong’s free hand moves to cup his cheek, noticing that Stephen had closed his eyes and was too entranced to notice he’s almost falling from his lap. He leans into it without a second thought, feeling slightly calloused fingers from years of martial arts experience and a warmth that he was sure was being created by magic.

Stephen hips stopped, he let out a shuddering breath before slowly returning to his previous pace, rutting into Wong’s hand like a desperate dog. While Wong originally thought he was going to grow bored of this pretty fast, he couldn’t help but chuckle at Stephen only just _now_ trying to control his orgasm, and not during the actual session.

His eyes roll to the back of his head in pleasure, whimpering with every thrust of his hips. After hours of being edged to exhaustion, Stephen’s cock became so _so_ sensitive, it makes him want to try and make the handjob last as much as possible. He doubts he will be able to get this sort of one-sided intimacy with the librarian any time soon.

“Oh, Wong -- Fuck yeah.” He writhes in Wong’s lap and feels the man’s hand tighten around his hard cock. Stephen hisses.

Fingernails scrape lightly over his shaft.  “Don’t be vulgar.” Somehow his cock grows harder in Wong’s palm.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” He whines this time, then gasps in relief as Wong, clearly fed up of Stephen’s antics, strokes him himself.

Wong cannot believe he allowed the man to best him over, to overextend his patience so much that he’s given into his pleas. Stephen is a dripping mess in his hand, a desperate man who melts in his lap with every touch.

He enjoys the intimacy of someone else’s touch on his cock more than any toy, even if the situation between Wong and himself is nothing but intimate. After losing so much control of his hands, Stephen’s became obsessed with the ones that belonged to others. Wong’s free hand is stroking his inner thigh and kept pumping his cock at a steady pace.

Until Stephen's body was trembling again, chest tightening and toes curling. He’s babbling nonsense, he doesn’t really ever know when to shut up. “Please, Wong -- _faster --_ oh gods, thank you thank you, _fuck.”_ Stephen buries his face into Wong’s shoulder and cries out, coming all over Wong’s hand and sleeve.

Wong grimaces in disgust. Almost instinctively, Stephen takes his hand and cleans it with his tongue. For his own enjoyment, really, Wong never intended to shove his fingers into the student’s mouth. For a man with such a large ego, seeing Stephen lick away his own semen didn’t surprise him in the least.

Sated, Stephen lays against Wong’s chest and pants until he’s calm again. He’s still deep in a submissive headspace, eyes red rimmed as if he had teared up during his climax. Wong’s free hand is still on his thigh, dragging lazy circles over it. Stephen shivered at bit. He seemed to enjoy it.

“Um -- I’m sorry for... all of this.” The man begins. Wong isn’t listening to him, he’s wiping his hand over Stephen’s stomach and arm, reminding himself to wash it later.

“There is no need to apologize, I chose to help you.” Stephen rolls to the side and curls up on his mattress as Wong speaks. His head is resting on the librarian’s lap, fingers threading through his hair to bring him down. He expects him to be back to his ridiculous, overconfident self in an hour or so. “I could have easily left you in the middle of the room without a second though.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt it.” Stephen murmurs.

The room is starkingly quiet for a few moments before Stephen speaks up again. “Do you... do this often?”

“Only for students and masters who need it, or who agree to be punished in this way.” Wong shrugs.

He curls himself up in his cot’s duvet, only now feeling slightly embarrassed. “So if I ask you could do this to me again?”

“If I am not busy, yes. The life of a sorcerer is stressful, loud. This can help some people.”

Truth be told, when Stephen managed to let himself completely at Wong’s will, he thought of nothing. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be enlightened enough to reach a state of nirvana, but that orgasm seemed like the closest thing to it.

“I think I’d like that, some other time.”

Wong huffed, “It would give me time to catch up on my reading.”

The student chuckles and finally lays on the bed, stretching and ready to rest for a while. He just noticed how long it’s been since he had a proper nights sleep, without cheating and using his astral form to spend the night reading.

“Thanks, buddy.”

Wong takes this as his cue to leave. “Of course. And Stephen?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t ever call me buddy again.” He says before closing the door behind him, somehow without any sort of anger in his voice.

For the first time in ages, Stephen manages to sleep for a sane amount of time. Though not before spending the time where his mind is in the grey area between dream and reality contemplating how quiet the room feels. The only sound comes from the wind chimes outside.

He sighs, starting to feel pathetic again. Perhaps he’ll call Wong and ask for another session later this week.

 


End file.
